Isabel and the Beast - Alucard

Chapter 8: One Thing Leads To Another

The next morning, I woke to someone gently running fingers through my hair, fingertips brushing over my shoulder blades as they slid down the long length of my blonde hair. Eyes barely opening, all I could see was the wall of Adrian's chest, robe still wound around him. My head lay on one of his forearms, his other arm moving rhythmically over me as his hand played with my hair. The sheets and blankets were kicked down to the foot of the bed, and while he had his robe on, I only had my sleep shirt.

"Too early," I murmured. There was a soft chuckle.

"We both slept in. I can make us breakfast while you get ready."

I groaned happily, thinking about food, and looked up at him. I don't know what possessed me to do it. He just looked so comfortable there, smiling at me, in my bed, his full lips just barely parted. How he managed to look so perfect after sleeping all night was beyond me. His face was so close to mine. Before I could catch myself, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. They were so soft, and he froze for a whole awkward few seconds. Then his hand cupped my face and kissed me back, gently and aggressively at the same time, lips moving against mine. He pulled me against his chest and I while our mouths did a sweet dance, I became distinctly aware of his arousal against my hip bone. My heart hammered in my chest. My head swum.

I found the tie that secured his robe and my fingers had just started to pull at it when his hand moved over mine, long fingers holding mine still. His mouth pulled away and I already missed his lips on mine.

"Isabel." He said my name the way he might curse under his breath. He seemed so still, while my heart raced and my breathing still ran ragged after our making out. He didn't look at me, preferring something off to the side somewhere, his face tortured. When I reached up and touched his cheek his eyes darted to mine, but as soon as my hand was on him, it wasn't. He stood in the doorway in the same instant, back to me, his presence over me evaporated.

"I'll be in the kitchen," he said quietly. "Come down whenever you're ready."

And he was gone. I sighed, my heart still racing. What just happened?

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Hair braided and secured away from my face and my favorite green dress on, I stamped down the stairs to the kitchen. Adrian glanced at me as I came in, a polite smile on his face. He'd readied some eggs and toast and a tea pot sat hot on the stove.

"Why did you leave?" I asked impatiently.

He let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Can we eat before arguing?"

"We're not arguing. I asked a question."

"Can we eat before arguing about what constitutes arguing?" He said, picking up both plates and taking them over to the table. I let out an exasperated breath and prepared the tea. Once at the table, I noticed the differences in our toast and eggs. It hit me then - I'd never told him how I'd liked my prepared. He must have picked it up from how I'd made my own on days I made breakfast. I liked my toast closer to burnt and my eggs well done. His toast was barely browned, his egg yolks runny when he pierced it.

I ate impatiently, only catching my jerky movements part way through. I should have been embarrassed. Maybe that was in there too, fueling the irritation. Some rejection stabbed as well. Maybe he really didn't want me. But he'd been so irritated about Reo kissing me. Maybe he didn't want me, but didn't want others touching me either. Some men were ridiculous like that. I'd read about some of them in the fiction he kept on a smaller shelf. He didn't have as many stories as he did textbooks.

I noticed him staring as I finished my toast, an eyebrow quirked slightly.

"You're making faces like you're already arguing. So let's hear it," he said calmly.